


And I will fight god (until he comes down to meet me)

by Maaiams



Series: Summer of Lost Dreams [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Friendship, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, George is a bit of a psychopath at first but he calms down, M/M, Minecraft, Respawn, Swearing, Temporary Character Death, actually beta read for once, can be read as platonic or romantic idk, minecraft game mechanics, this edges into hurt/comfort and I don't know how I feel about that, why am I writing a fic about minecraft youtubers help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27562126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maaiams/pseuds/Maaiams
Summary: Bored of speedrunning, Dream hears rumors of a powerful code entity inhabiting a forgotten world.He decides to fight it.A sorta prequel story telling how Dream and George met, all in the context of Minecraft game mechanics, of course. Inspired by their player-controlled mobs/environment videos.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Summer of Lost Dreams [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913497
Comments: 29
Kudos: 365





	And I will fight god (until he comes down to meet me)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the efforts of my two friends Grass and Ken, I no longer need to put “no beta we die like ___” in my tags! Go check them out, they’re the authors of the DNF HP fic [Like Magic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27004996/chapters/65921473) and Grass is also on the authorial team of the DNF PJO fic [GeorgeNotFound, Son of Poseidon, and the League of Minor Gods](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25270081/chapters/61264081)
> 
> They’re amazing <3

“You’re going to _what_!?”

Bad gaped at him, his dark wings spread wide in shock.

“Fight god.” Dream repeated, “I heard there was one on 404.”

“ _Why_????” the Admin demanded shakily, “Do you know how _bad_ of an idea that is?”

“Exactly, and that’s why I’m going.” he flashed him one of his signature cocky grins.

“DreEeEeEeam!” Bad sputtered, flapping his wings around anxiously, “Don’t you have something better to do? Like speedrunning, haven’t you been speedrunning recently?”

“I have, but it’s been getting boring.” he shrugged, “Besides, Illumina’s always going to be better.”

“Just because you’re not the best doesn’t mean you should stop trying.” Bad said wisely, “Even failing at something over and over again is better than perma-dying to some god on some forgotten world.”

“It can’t do that.” Dream scoffed, “Everyone I’ve talked to that's visited 404 said it’d kill you on the spot, but leave you alone if you left right away.”

“But you’re not doing that!” Bad protested, “You’re going to provoke it until it fights you! Who knows what it’ll do then!”

“Look Bad, you’re an Admin.” Dream said, “You know how the world works. Is there anything in the Universe that can permakill a Player?”

Bad went silent, a clear no.

“At most I’ll die a bunch, but I’ll always just respawn.”

His friend sighed, finally recognizing that deterring Dream was a lost cause. “Munchy’s a bit too close to 404 for my liking, but I can’t choose the location of my servers.” He pulled him into a hug, engulfing him a flurry of dark feathers, “Just be safe, okay? One of our Developers went missing there a long time ago. We never found him.” 

“Don’t worry about me, Bad. I’ll be back.” Dream gave his Admin a small smile.

“Maybe I’ll even find that poor fool who got lost.”

* * *

_Dream joined the game_

He spawned in a perfectly pristine world, untouched except for the patch of ground he stood on. Out of precaution, he drew his sword, but nothing met his arrival. He immediately set about scouting out the grassy plains he found himself in, in preparation for his inevitable confrontation with whatever god or code entity inhabited the world.

Unbeknownst to him, his presence did not go as unnoticed as he’d thought. Had he paid close enough attention to the world, he would have felt a small twinge of annoyance run through the grass below his feet, or perhaps a sigh carried in the gentle breeze.

Something great and powerful and _vast_ scrutinized the small figure that had dared disturb its work, and it was not happy.

* * *

He could never go long without one of those Players visiting his world.

Whether they were lost or tourists, they always ended up doing exactly the same thing: distracting him from all the knowledge to be had. There was always so much to do, so much to learn, so much to be written in the secret language of the Universe that Players had been too ignorant to understand. He’d thought that by running off to a forgotten world, they’d leave him alone to his work, but they always managed to find him.

The Player whose presence currently stained his world was definitely one of the more confrontational ones.

It was yelling and waving a diamond sword around in the air. Whether it was yelling at him he didn’t know, he lacked a physical form so he doubted it even knew he was there. Ignoring the annoying sounds it was making, he split the ground open right under its feet, leaving it to fall to its death. It was heartless, but got the job done so he could go back to his code.

When a death message failed to show up in chat, he peered over the lip of the ravine to find a small figure triumphantly sitting in a puddle of water at the bottom.

_Ah, it must have had a bucket on it. Lucky_.

“Let’s go!” the Player bellowed, thrusting a fist in the air, “Bring it on!”

He did a double take at its gleeful voice and looked closer. Its face was covered by a painted smile, but judging from its boisterous attitude, it must have been smiling underneath as well.

What a strange Player. The thought had barely crossed his mind before he was filling the ravine with lava. There, that should do the trick.

The chat was still disappointingly empty of death messages. 

He tore out the lava, seething at the appearance of a small cobblestone and obsidian box that had formed at the bottom of the ravine. That stupid Player and its stupid bucket of water. A block broke on the side and a smiling face peered out.

“Gotta try harder than that!” it taunted, before taking off into a nearby cave.

He chased after it, searching through the walls of solid stone. There, a group of skeletons. He grabbed one and drew its bow. The arrow clattered off a shield and he fumed in frustration.

“Wow, you can control mobs too?” the Player asked, lowering its shield. It cut through his vessel, scattering him to the wind once more, and bounced its way out to the sunlit surface. He followed angrily in the body of a spider. The Player noticed, and quickly relieved him of his second vessel with its sword.

“C’mon, is that all you can do?” it taunted him.

Now he was angry, _actually_ angry. At most the Players had been a minor inconvenience for him, but this one seemed to take joy in his vexation. 

_BOOM!_

Lighting struck where it had been standing and the Player yelled an unintelligible string of words. He felt smug satisfaction rise in him as it continued to scream in keyboard smash, wildly dodging bolts of lightning he summoned from the heavens.

_BOOM!_

_Dream was struck by lightning_

At long last, the nuisance was silent. He let go of the lightning command, ready to fade back into the mists of the world-

-only for something small but maddeningly _green_ to pop back into existence not too far away in the distance.

It had _respawned_. Not a single Player had chosen to respawn after he killed them.

For not the first time, he found himself wishing for the powers of the Admins. /ban would have been _very_ useful to his plight, but this wasn’t a server. This was just a private world that Players seemed to have the talent for finding.

The Player shot away from spawn before he could teleport there, never standing still long enough for him to smite it again with his lightning. This time it seemed to know all his tricks. It dodged every bolt and somehow jumped even the widest ravines he opened under its feet. He briefly left it unattended to find some mobs to throw at it, only to return to find a fully activated Nether portal made out of a previous attempt on its life.

He was left rooted on the spot in confusion. What was its game? Did it foolishly think it could escape him by traveling to another dimension? He squeezed himself through the swirling frames with little difficulty, and the chase began anew.

Even amongst the dangers of the Nether the Player led him on for a good while, dodging every fireball he’d sent its way and knocking a few back with devastating accuracy to his ghasts. He begrudgingly developed a respect for its parkour skills, and an inkling of the brilliant mind that hid under its smiling mask. In the end it took him dropping the entirety of the Nether ceiling on it to kill it.

_Dream suffocated in a wall_

He was absolutely sure he’d gotten it this time, that it was defeated and gone. 

He was wrong.

Green popped back into his world, and finally, _finally_ , he voiced his utter frustration.

“ _GO AWAY!”_ he cried through the wind and sky.

The Player’s head shot up in surprise, “You can talk?” It spun around, as if trying to find a source of his voice, “Hello?”

“ _Why_ are you still here?”

By the way it’s face tilted up, it must have been grinning wildly under its mask, “Because it’s _fun_!”

“I’ve been trying to kill you.” he thought he’d been making his intentions quite obvious.

“That’s why I’m here!” it chirped in the same annoyingly eager tone.

“So if I stop, will you leave?”

The Player’s face fell, “No!” it yelled, waving its arms up in the air, “If you- if you stop, I’ll stick around and bother you until you try killing me again!”

“So this is all a game to you.”

“Yup!” it nodded vigorously.

Sharp anger flared up inside of him and the sky darkened. He had more important things to do and this Player had that _audacity_ to rope him into its silly game?

Without warning, he just deleted the entire chunk. All the way down past bedrock. Until the pale emptiness of the Void bled through at the very bottom. It took the Player by surprise, the ground instantly vanishing under its feet and dropping it to a suffocating death in the arms of the Void.

_Dream fell out of the world_

Satisfied that it had finally died first try this time, he teleported to its spawn point and waited.

A smudge of green appeared and he bore down on it with the wrath of the entire natural world.

_Dream was struck by lightning_

_Dream was killed by magic_

_Dream fell from a high place_

Somehow, inexplicably, he found himself laughing.

“Hehehe,” he giggled as he engulfed spawn in a sphere of water. 

_Dream drowned_

It was quite entertaining watching it struggle. He thought he’d moved past killing mobs for fun after his first days on the world, but unlike mobs, Players could respawn.

_Dream tried to swim in lava_

_Dream burned to death_

_Dream suffocated in a wall_

_Dream was struck by lightning_

At first it had tried to fight him, yelling out and making a mad dash away from spawn before he inevitably caught it with some new method he’d devised. But now as a chunk of text filled the chat, it just laid there rather pathetically on the floor of spawn, its limp body disappearing and appearing with each death.

_Dream died_

This was not fun anymore.

He lowered himself down from where he could be considered a sky god to hover beside it.

“Hello?” he asked the Player, “Aren’t you going to run again?”

For a frightening moment it didn’t answer, and panic struck him. Had he finally managed to _permakill_ a Player? Before he’d met this odd creature he would have been overjoyed, it was the ultimate breakthrough and he’d finally have found a permanent solution to the regular annoyances that visited his world.

But now?

Now it just felt _wrong_.

“Ummm….” he said, for once absolutely lost on what to do. “Are you okay?”

A groan escaped it, and it tried to struggle to its feet. He helpfully popped a block out of the ground to help it stand.

“Are you okay?” he asked again, feeling silly that he was asking such a lowly being how it was doing as if he were even slightly concerned for its welfare.

It nodded, but he noticed its hands were still shaking. 

“So can you run again?” he asked, “It’s not fun when you’re not running.”

It shook its head now. Its smiling face had fallen off at some point, exposing a pair of watery green eyes. 

He felt horrible. “Please?”

It seemed to think for a moment.

“Rules.” it choked out, “We need rules.”

“...Okay.” he couldn’t believe he was agreeing to this, “What do you propose?”

“No death spam.” it immediately said. “I don’t want to ever relive that ever again.”

He winced, “Okay.” Its face was so expressive. “What else?”

“You can only use one of your powers each round.”

“What do you mean? I have many.”

“Like you can only use the mobs, or you can only use the environment. Not both.”

“Okay, fine.” It would make it more challenging for him, but it shouldn’t be much of a problem.

“That’s all I can think of right now.”

“So I win if I kill you.”

“Yes.”

“Then how do you win? You can’t exactly kill me.”

“I can’t?” it asked as was if it were a challenge.

“I’m unkillable.” he said quickly. If this Player was crazy enough to seek him out for a challenge, he didn’t want to find out what would happen if it _actually_ set its mind on killing him. “You’ll have to find some other win condition that I’ll try to stop you from achieving.”

“The Ender Dragon then. I’ll win if I kill the Ender Dragon.”

“Are you sure? The Ender Dragon’s kinda hard to kill.”

“I’m a Speedrunner.” it said confidently, “I’ve killed hundreds of Ender Dragons.”

“Sure,” he said, not believing a single word of it.

“What, do you not believe me?”

“Nope.”

“Then I’ll prove it to you. I’ll beat the game even with you trying to hunt me down all the way.”

“Okay, you have five seconds.” he said, “Five, four-”

“Wait wait wait wait wait!” it waved its hands wildly at him, “Wait before we go, do you have a name?”

Did he? He tried to remember what they called him before he left.

“It’s fine if you don’t.” the Player said, “I just thought it’d be easier if I had something to call you by.” he smiled, “My name’s Dream, if that helps.”

“Yeah, I know. I can read.” The entire chat had been filled by _Dream this_ or _Dream that_ now. An idea struck him and he typed a message in chat.

_ <GeorgeNotFound> hi _

“Oh.” he said, remembering it now, “Yeah, I guess my name’s George.”

He was met by a wheeze. Dream doubled over on himself and seemed to be in the process of dying without his help.

“What?” he couldn’t help but feel embarrassed for some reason.

“ _George_? You’re some kind of code deity and your name is _George_?” Dream managed between fits of laughter.

He wasn’t a code deity but he didn’t bother to correct him, “So? What kind of name is Dream?”

“Dream is _creative_ and _unique_.” he reached down and picked up his mask.

“Well is _that_ supposed to be _creative_ and _unique_?” he mocked.

“My mask?” he secured it to the side of his head, but didn’t turn the white wood to cover his face again. “Nah, I guess I just don’t like being seen.”

_Tell me about it_. George thought. He’d cloistered himself on this world and yet people still managed to find him. As he looked down at Dream and his now exposed face, a new source of guilt joined everything else he’d accumulated today. He felt like he’d violated his privacy in his carelessness. “Sorry.”

Why was he apologizing? “I get it if you want to put it back on.”

Dream shrugged, “Why should I? It’s just us.”

_It’s just us_. Something about that sentence made him feel odd inside. Before it could bother him more he quickly changed the subject.

“So are you gonna run now or can I just smite you on the spot?”

A glint of competition flashed in his eyes, “Mobs only for this round, okay?”

“Sure. I’m feeling generous today so you can have a five minute head start.”

“I only need one.” Dream gave him a cocky grin and dashed off.

As George dutifully counted, watching the small green figure disappear off into the horizon, it occurred to him he could just disappear somewhere. He’d have at least a day to himself before Dream noticed, and maybe by then he’d be so discouraged that he’d leave on his own. But the mere thought of abandoning him when they’d finally just met seemed cruel. Returning to his peace and quiet would be unbearable now, now that he’d gotten a taste of another existence.

He probably would never get any work done around Dream, but it didn’t matter.

His soul was singing.

* * *

They’d been at it for several rounds already.

Dream hadn’t made it much further than getting food before George caught him with a well-placed mob. This time he’d managed to find a village, running in and killing the iron golem before George had a chance to claim it as his own. Dream had essentially left him weaponless, it was daytime and he was stuck in a village filled with peaceful villagers. He was idly wondering if how hard he could make a villager punch him when a patch of brown darted behind a house.

A devious idea began to form in his mind.

“Oh Dreeeeeeeam,” he called as he settled into his new vessel, “what’s your favorite animal?”

“Uh,” Dream looked up from gathering hay bales, “Cats I guess?”

“Well I’ve got the perfect gift for you.” he said sweetly, before his words turned sinister, “ _Better watch your back_.” He sprung at him, the cat yowling as he tore at Dream’s face with its claws.

“AAGH!” Dream cried, his hands immediately going up to protect his face.

That was the reaction he’d been waiting for and he lunged for his throat, “You wouldn’t kill a cat now would you Dream?” he crowed.

“No!” Dream struggled to grab ahold of the cat, its sleek fur slipping through his fingers.

“Then you’re defenseless!” George giggled, feeling absolutely evil, “It’s gonna take a while but I’m gonna tear out your throat~!”

“No! Please!” In a last ditch effort, he threw himself to the ground, forcing George to leap off of him to avoid getting crushed.

Before he could get out of reach, Dream lashed out a foot and kicked him, _hard_ , sending the cat flying. It bought him enough time to scramble to his feet again.

“What the hell Dream, you kicked a cat?” George steered the cat around and charged him.

This time Dream was ready and caught it by the scruff of its neck. “You made me do it!” The cat hung in front of him, paws flailing uselessly. “Wait, what happens to the mobs after you’re done possessing them?”

George gave up on trying to swat him, “I don’t know, they just, um, go and do whatever they were doing before?”

Dream looked at the battered cat he held in his hands, “George, how could you?” he sounded genuinely horrified, “You just nabbed it for your own purposes and it had no choice but to follow? Then you were just going to leave it to _die_?”

“I….” he trailed off, unable to find anything to make it seem less bad, “I never thought of it that way.”

“Truce then, until I can patch this cat up.” he held out a hand to shake, but then dropped it sheepishly when he remembered that George wasn’t exactly physical.

“Fine, truce till tomorrow morning, and then I’ll go back to killing you.” he sensed the locations of the sun and moon in the sky. It was almost sunset. “You’re lucky Dream, you wouldn’t have stood a chance against me the moment night fell and the mobs came out.”

Dream gave a noncommittal grunt, seemingly more focused on the cat than him. He watched him carry it into one of the village houses, feeling ignored. Was Dream avoiding him on purpose? Did he take it a bit too far with the cat stunt? He’d killed people in crueler ways before, so what was different about now? His guilt only continued to rise.

“...My favorite animals are cats too.” he said, trying to brush it off, “They’re cute, you know?”

“And you still made one attack me?” Dream set it down on the bed and lifted a paw to check its little body for injuries. He settled for wrapping a long bandage around its chest where it surely had been bruised. When he was satisfied that it had no other visible wounds, he sat down on the bed and coaxed it into his lap.

George felt an odd sensation rush over him. It was warm and rhythmic, a comforting motion that he longed to sink into and-

Dream was petting him. It. The cat. Dream was petting the cat, and he was still in it.

Dream seemed to realize the same thing, “Wait, are you still the cat?”

“No?” he said, but they both knew it was a lie, “Um, is this weird?”

Dream lifted the cat up by its armpits and jiggled its little paws, “Is it weird that I’m talking to some shapeless, formless deity that happens to look like an adorable widdle kitty?” he set it back down, “Also, you’re sitting on my lap. Got something you want to tell me George?”

George didn’t say anything, instead springing off of Dream and making sure to use his internal organs as a launchpad.

“Oof!” his friend doubled over, clutching his stomach, “My _kidneys-_ ”

George steered the cat up to a window as night began to fall. Slowly he watched mobs spawn in, bemoaning how easily he could have beaten Dream if he hadn’t let him call a truce. Behind him, he could hear the sounds of him getting ready for bed. He released his hold on the cat, letting it wander on its own with his consciousness just tagging along for the ride.

“You’re sleeping?” he asked as Dream settled under the covers.

“Not all of us are code entities, George,” he yawned, “Us mortals need our rest. I haven’t slept since I first spawned in, and that was like, three days ago.”

“You realize I can just go grab a creeper from outside and blow you up while you sleep, right?” He was so, so tempted to.

“Oh you wouldn’t do that to me, Georgie.” Dream said with smug confidence.

The nickname irritated him. “What makes you think that?”

“We called a truce, remember?”

He sighed. Literally the only reason why Dream was talking to him right now and not stuck in an infinite loop of dying and respawning was because George had agreed not to. He guessed he could also agree not to try to murder him in his sleep.

“George. George.” Dream’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“What?” he looked through the cat’s eyes, and suddenly Dream was a lot closer to him than he remembered. The cat was sitting on his chest.

“George,” Dream smirked, and he could feel his voice rumble under the cat’s paws, “You’re a sneaky little bastard, you know that?”

“It’s not me!” He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so embarrassed. He also couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in such close proximity with another living being. “I’m not in control!”

When he thought things couldn’t get any worse, the cat started kneading, pushing its little paws into Dream’s chest.

“It’s not me I swear!” George screamed, absolutely mortified, “It’s the stupid cat!” he frantically tried to seize control of the cat again, only for Dream to wheeze so hard under the covers that he nearly shook it off.

“Calm down, calm down,” Dream laughed, gathering the cat up in his arms. He pressed his face into its fur and George nearly died right then and there. “It’s fine, I don’t mind.”

“I do! I’m still in here!”

“Then leave.” he snuggled the cat closer. “I want the cat, not you.”

George almost left to find a creeper to blow Dream off his smug ass, but it was warm. And cozy. Material comfort was something he hadn’t experienced in ages, and a part of him ached for that again. He tried to remember what sleep was like, but he soon realized that he didn’t need to. His consciousness grew heavier and heavier, darkness pooling at the edges of his vision.

“Catboy George,” he heard Dream laugh quietly to himself, before finally settling down.

“Good night Georgie.”

When George woke up the next morning having peacefully slept the whole night away, he felt almost bad blowing Dream up with a creeper.

* * *

“Just a man and his rabbit, on an adventure.” Dream sang as George hopped beside him. It was several days later now and on a different round. 

“I’m trying to spare you the trauma of death by rabbit, actually.” George said, exposing the rabbit’s sharp front teeth. “I imagine it’d be a horrible way to go.”

He jumped when Dream’s sword cut through his vessel, dumping him back into the folds of the world.

“Fair point.” Dream said, “Thanks for dinner.”

“At least ask me out first.” he muttered.

“ _WHAT_?” Dream’s head shot up, “ _WHAAAAAAAAAT????_ ”

“What?” George echoed, cringing internally at his slip-up.

“Did you- did you just _flirt_ _back_?”

“You wish, Dream.” George said, and they left it at that.

* * *

“Please.”

“No.”

“ _Please_.”

“No.”

“ _Pleeeeeease_!” Dream pressed on, undeterred, “I made it all the way to the End, it’s the furthest I’ve gone!”

“You still died.” George said. He would never forget the look on his face when George came around the corner with the full might of the Ender Dragon. It was pretty easy to hunt him down while he was still reeling from the shock.

“ _Please_.” Dream said again, his form distant and tiny on the endstone below. If he hadn’t placed a bed back in the Stronghold, this wouldn’t have been an issue.

“No.” he glowered down at him from his perch on the obsidian pillar. “You _lost_.”

“But I just want a _rideeeee_.” he whined like a little kid, “I’ve never ridden the Ender Dragon before, this is my only opportunity. How many other code entities do you know?”

None, actually. He wasn’t even a code entity himself technically. “Fine.” he said, gliding down to him. “Just don’t make it weird, okay?”

He realized his mistake too late and the words had already left his mouth. A shit-eating grin immediately crossed Dream’s face.

“Minecraft, but I ride my friend-”

“ _Don’t_.” There was no one to blame but himself for bringing that up. He landed and awkwardly tilted the dragon’s shoulder down to him. “Just shut up and hop on before I change my mind.”

“Yes!” Dream cheered as he scrambled up its scaly side, “George, you’re the _nicest_ , _kindest_ , most _talented-_ ”

“Oh my god calm down,” George rolled his eyes. The dragon’s eyes, actually. “You ready?”

Dream had somehow situated himself in the hollow between the dragon’s shoulder blades, his legs hanging over its wing joints. He wrapped his arms around its neck tightly. “Ready!”

George launched himself off the ground, pumping the dragon’s wings as they shot into the dark sky, trailed by Dream’s excited yells.

“LET’S _GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO_!” he whooped, daring to let go with one hand in favor of thrusting a fist into the air. His joy was contagious, and George felt himself smiling as well, a messy thing with too much teeth that tugged awkwardly at the dragon’s mouth.

As they leveled out, he heard the oddest noise from Dream. It wasn’t a scream, but more like a horrified gasp. He felt his grip on the dragon’s neck tighten.

“You okay?” George quickly detached himself from the dragon’s vision to look back at him. His face was pale and his eyes were blown wide open. He’d never seen Dream so terrified before, not even when he’d killed him dozens of times, “Oh my god what happened?”

“I’m scared of heights.” his friend said in a small voice.

“You-” he felt the urge to laugh, but it didn’t feel right at the expense of his friend. Instead he began to slowly descend back to the ground, “You asked to ride the dragon but you’re scared of heights?”

Dream nodded, the meek action looking extremely out of place, “I didn’t think. Just wanted to ride the dragon, ya know?” he said quietly.

George carefully set them down on the ground and rolled to one side to help Dream get off. His motions were shaky, but a wide, beaming smile cut across his face.

“You’re such an idiot.” George told him, but both of them knew he didn’t mean a word of it.

* * *

He couldn’t remember when they became friends.

He couldn’t remember when Dream stopped being an _it_ , and became a _him_. When he was no longer just some nuisance of a Player, but a person with thoughts and feelings of his own. They were the same, he discovered. Two halves of one soul, the sun and the moon. Two quiet, private people who’d hidden themselves from the world, but burst out in explosions of color when around each other.

“You’re my best friend.” he’d told him one day, and he didn’t care that he probably wasn’t Dream’s. One of them definitely got out a lot more.

Dream only smiled back, “You’re my best friend too.”

And then the world had fallen out beneath him, and George was dragged under another wave of unfamiliar emotions.

Just being around Dream reawakened things inside of him he thought he’d lost a long, long time ago, when he’d first arrived on this world and shed everything that made him _George_ to learn the secrets of the Universe. He’d thought himself different, that he was better than what he used to be, that Players were beneath him.

In actuality he’d just forgotten who he was.

When had been the last time he laughed or smiled? When was the last time he’d felt anything other than calculated indifference, thought anything other than numbers and letters on a string? When had he set his mind free, free to experience silly things like joy and wonder, or even more passionate things like jealousy and competition?

Now he felt it all, wild emotions running through him as he floated in the sky, all of it directed at a small figure on the endstone.

“NO!” he screamed, collapsing all the obsidian pillars in vain, “NOOOOOOOOOO!”

“LET’S GO!” Dream punched the air, cheering to the sound of a dying dragon, “LET’S FUCKING GO!”

“UGHHHHH that’s not FAIR, I couldn’t use the DRAGON!” he whined, knocking holes in the endstone as if that would somehow win him the game, “There’s literally NOTHING in the End that I can kill you with, only mobs!”

But then a message showed up in chat, and it was all over.

_Dream has made the advancement [Free the End]_

His disappointment vanished, instantly replaced by elation, “You did it Dream! Let’s GOOOOOOOO!”

There was no ire in his voice. There was no more hatred for this Player. After their time spent together, all he felt was a deep sense of pride for his friend. It was the first time Dream had won, and there was something about overcoming such impossible odds that made his spirits soar. His entire being longed to join Dream down on the endstone, running and yelling his triumphs out for the world to hear.

He took over the body of an Enderman and hopped along beside him, but it wasn’t the same.

“You’re such an idiot.” Dream shook his head as he watched him jump around on spindly limbs.

George ran over and smacked him.

“Ow! I thought you promised to not use mobs this round!”

“Round’s over.” George said smugly as he chased him down, “C’MERE DREAMMMMMM!”

“NO DON’T!” he tried to run off, but George grabbed him with the long arms of the Enderman and raised him over his head.

“YEET!” he screamed, tossing his friend into the glowing End Portal. Dream vanished with a yelp, and George hopped in as well.

* * *

They reappeared in the Overworld under a blanket of stars.

Dream started a fire while George kept the mobs away, silently telling the world that this Player was _his_ , and if any mob so much as _touched_ it he would unravel it into the strings of code from whence it came. Dream was none the wiser of the unspoken threat that hung around him and cheerfully cooked a steak over the flames. He patted the spot next to him in a silent invitation.

George steered his Enderman over and awkwardly folded its long limbs under it in some cruel mockery of sitting. That longing seized him again and he wondered what it’d feel like to _actually_ sit beside Dream, laughing and talking by the fire. It was not enough, it was never enough. First with the cat, then with the dragon and all the other mobs he’d controlled. Nothing could replace the intimacy of physical touch.

Slowly but surely, loneliness seeped into his being. It permeated everything, the trees, the stars, the grass. The wind sang his sorrow and he struggled to hold back storm clouds lest it ruin Dream’s clear view of the sky. His control over the world only served to remind him again of how intangible he was, and how real Dream was. He was so close, yet so far.

George must have zoned out for a bit because when he finally shook himself out of his slump, he found Dream smiling up at him.

“I’m never gonna get used to that.” he said, pointing at the Enderman he inhabited. “Someday I’m gonna like, walk up to a creeper or something thinking it was you and get my ass blown off.”

George blinked at him through the purple gaze of the Enderman, longing to look at him through his own eyes. The world would be a lot duller, but he found that he didn’t care.

“Wait, I have an idea.”

It was a very, very stupid idea. He’d never do such a thing without days of planning, but with Dream, he felt daring. He stood up and reached out through the world. It was like gathering wool, dragging threads and strings anchored far off into the distance and reeling them all back to one point. His consciousness shrunk, receding from distant deserts, clandestine Nether hollows, the vast void of the End now empty and quiet without its dragon. Soon all he could see was Dream, glowing by the fire, and the plains they sat in. He felt confined, restricted. When was the last time he’d concentrated so much of himself in one area?

For a moment everything hung in the air around him, trapped in a delicate balance of forces. Entropy fought to scatter his essence back into the folds of the world, and George fought to hold on. It was tempting to just let go and return to his all-encompassing nature, but the tugging of loneliness on his very mortal soul was far more powerful. With a final, decisive heave, he collapsed everything into a figure he once called his own.

…

Oh.

Oh no.

This was a _horrible idea_.

A terrible pounding burst into his chest and something rushed through his lungs. An involuntary scream tore itself out of his throat, only to be drowned out by another screech, one far stranger and far, far angrier. The sounds of a struggle broke out far below him, but he was too overwhelmed to notice.

George felt _everything_. The blood rushing through his veins, liquids gurgling in his stomach, all of his organs pressing together. He felt the clothes on his back, his eyelids fluttering in the darkness, the parting of his lips in a wordless scream. The wind only continued to billow upward through his clothes, carrying with it an odd sense of weightlessness in his stomach. 

Was he falling?

He was falling. The cool night air rushed against his skin as he tumbled from the sky. He’d forgotten to set himself down on the ground before coalescing. Idiot.

His back slammed against the ground and he was met with a whole new world of feeling.

_Pain bones dirt grass fabric wetness air sky clear_ -

There was a cry of surprise and his eyes fell on Dream.

Dream.

Golden by the firelight, his usual green faded to yellow by his traitorous eyes. Oh god. Dream. The only constant in his life. He lurched towards him, body contorting wildly, reaching out to his friend. _Help me!_ He tried to say, but his voice wouldn’t work.

Moving instantly assaulted him with even more sensations. No no no no, too much feeling, too much light, too much everything. He was both suffocating and torn apart at the same time. He felt his mind slipping, losing itself in his body, it was all too much, all too overwhelming.

Dream was moving away from him, why was he moving away? His eyes, they must have been green, were narrowed. Cold. Hard. Unfamiliar.

George’s legs finally gave away and he collapsed onto his friend, hoping he’d catch him. Instead he was met with a whole new sensation.

Diamond.

Right through the chest.

He gasped, momentarily distracted by the odd sensation of being run through, of blood spilling out of him, somehow different and far more wrong than when it should have been inside him.

His world exploded with pain.

It blocked out everything else, something he should have been grateful for, but he found that he couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t process that he was falling to the floor, sliding off a bloodied blade, his vision darkening, that he was dying, dying for the first time in years.

The last thing he saw were a pair of cold, unrecognizing eyes.

_GeorgeNotFound was slain by Dream_

* * *

Feeling returned to his limbs a little quicker than he would have liked.

He was laying spreadeagled on the ground, not too far where he’d fallen, at spawn. Grass prickled his back and the sun was blinding in his eyes. There was also the point of a diamond sword in his face, but he ignored it.

He was more concerned with the person on the other end of it. Dream.

A blank mask stared down at him, and his heart clenched at the sight of it. Dream had put it back on. He’d never put it on when he was around George.

_Why should I? It’s just us_.

A rush of betrayal rose in his chest. Did Dream not recognize him? He’d thought he was his friend, his _best_ friend, but then he had turned around and stabbed him through the chest without a second glance.

_It had all been a trick, Dream had tricked him to return to his mortal body, Dream had been here to kill him all along-_

He cut the thought off before it could overwhelm him. Dream just didn’t recognize him, he told himself, it was all a misunderstanding. It _had_ to be, he didn’t know if he could handle it if it were anything else. He knew Dream’s heart to be warmer than the sun, but now staring up at that cold, cold mask, even memories of distant sunlight couldn’t stop fear from flooding his mind.

Dream was downright terrifying. He’d seen his skill and reflexes back when he was an intangible being, but had thought nothing of it. There was never a reason to, he knew Dream couldn’t touch him. But how that he was real and absolutely vulnerable, he had an idea of how other Players saw him.

And how Dream must have seen him, some invisible force capable of dropping mountains and tearing open the sky.

He was instantly transported back to when _he_ had loomed over Dream’s limp body, his life entirely at his mercy. It was an odd reversal of fates.

“Who are you, and _what have you done to George_.”

The utter coldness and hostility in his voice shook him to the bone. An unfamiliar pressure welled up inside of him, burning his throat and prickling his eyes. He almost considered shedding his physical form again to escape, but then the point of the sword quivered slightly in front of him, and he understood.

Dream was scared. Terrified, actually. Terrified for George.

The emotions, there were suddenly too many. At the forefront he was relieved, grateful that the Universe was kind and that Dream hadn’t been here to kill him at all. Their friendship was real, it was all a misunderstanding. But then there was a whole mess of emotions after that, and he struggled to pick one. A puddle of confusion, healthy amounts of embarrassment that their first physical interaction had gone so poorly, an odd, unfamiliar warmth in his chest-

He settled for annoyance.

That, afterall, was something he was familiar with around Dream.

“What-” he struggled to find his voice, “What the _fuck_ , Dream.” he finally managed to croak.

The figure stumbled back at the sound of his voice. “...George?”

“ _Yes_?” he glowered at him, “George your best friend? George the only person that tolerated your stupid competitive streak? George that you so helpfully ran through with a sword? I went through all that hassle of coalescing myself into my body again and the first thing you do is stab me?”

“You’re- you’re a _Player_?” there was a note of wonder in his voice.

“Unfortunately.” George grimaced, still fighting to keep his senses from overwhelming him.

“Wait, wait _really_? You’re a real _person_?”

“ _Yes_.” he said, offended, “I’m not some shiny new boss mob, _Dream_. Has the Ender Dragon ever made fun of your stupid mask while you tried to fight it?”

“No?” he suddenly seemed to remember the mask on his face and fumbled it off with shaking hands. A familiar face appeared and George nearly passed out in relief. Dream recognized him. “You’re actually _George_?”

“Did you not look at chat?” he jabbed a finger at the words that loudly proclaimed his death at the hands of Dream, “It literally says you fucking killed me!”

“I didn’t think to look! I was worried!” his eyes were so wide and expressive, “You said you wanted to try something and just started screaming your head off! The next thing I knew I was being attacked by the Enderman you were supposed to be inhabiting and then some random guy fell from the sky! I thought he murdered you!”

Oh. The Enderman. He’d completely forgotten about that.

Dream squinted down at him.

George felt the urge to curl up on himself and disappear. He wasn’t used to being seen, “What?”

“You look weird.”

He squinted back at his freckled face. “So do you.”

“No, I mean-” he gestured vaguely with his hands, seemingly at a loss, “I just never expected an all-powerful code entity to look like some… some British twink.”

“Well fuck you too, Dream.”

“No, I meant-” a thought seemed to suddenly strike him, “Wait, stand up. Stand up.”

“Can’t.” George muttered, “Haven’t exactly driven a body in- _Dream_!” he shrieked when his friend looped his arms under his and pulled him up.

“Oh my god!” Dream wheezed, almost lifting him off the ground. “You’re so tiny!”

“No!”

“Short!”

“No!”

Now that he was somewhat upright, Dream _was_ tall. He’d never noticed it before, probably cause he was always looking down at him from the sky.

The world spun around him and suddenly it was all too much again. The sunlight, the trees, Dream in front of him, towering over him, his hands tightly gripping his shoulders. Now that his emotions were gone, he was left to the mercy of more tangible things. His legs gave out under him and even Dream’s steady hands were not enough to keep him from falling.

“Holy shit George, are you okay?”

“No, no! Make it stop!” he cried, too overwhelmed to scream again, “It’s too much!”

He curled up on himself, assaulted from all sides by words, images, feelings. The burning glare of the sun, the howling breeze, grass piercing his knees like shards of glass, ear-splitting birdsong, leaves screaming in trees, the gasping breath in his lungs, _his heart pounding in his chest_ -

Then it was gone. All gone. Replaced by a single, all-encompassing warmth. There was pressure all around him, not too much that it was suffocating, but gentle and comforting. Everything was yellow, golden in the sunlight, though he had an inkling that it should have been green.

Dream was kneeled on the ground beside him, hugging him, enveloping him in his arms and blocking everything out.

“Focus on me, George,” he said, and he did.

It was as easy as breathing. Easier than breathing, actually. He let himself relax in Dream’s arms, finally opening himself up to the world and accepting the feelings it brought with it. He felt soft fabric on his face, the rough skin of calloused hands gripping his own, warm breaths ruffling his hair. A strong heart beat against his and he fell into its calming rhythm, slowing the panicked rush of blood through his veins. Briefly he hesitated, unsure of physical intimacy, before he leaned in and hugged Dream back, finally indulging in the very reason he’d chosen to return.

When the wind faded into the background and the sun was not as bright, he looked up into his eyes and smiled. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Dream smiled back. Then he dragged a hand across his face and his peaceful expression was instantly overtaken by worry, “Holy _shit_ you scared me there, George. I thought you got murdered but you were right there with me the whole time! Uh- _Oh god_ ,” he realized, a look of horror dawning on his face, “You were trying to reach me. I was all you had and then I stabbed you-”

“Whatever, at least that kinda makes up for all the times I killed you.” George grumbled, not particularly interested in talking about his rather lame death. “Your death count still tops mine by like, a thousand.”

“Would you like me to fix that for you?” Dream asked sweetly.

“Um, no-” he shoved him away, “I’m still unkillable, you know.”

“Chat says otherwise.” Dream shot back, “You’re just as mortal as the rest of us.”

“Maybe I _used_ to be-” he began, but cut himself off. Dream was looking at him weirdly again. “What?”

“You’re the Developer.” he whispered in realization, “You’re the Developer from Munchy that visited 404 and never returned. You didn’t disappear, you just never left!”

Munchy struck a chord in him, but the other name he didn’t recognize, “404?” he asked.

“Yeah, that’s what they started calling this place.” Dream waved his hands around, “You’ve made yourself quite a reputation, you know? Who’d ever heard of a world that seemed to have a mind of its own?”

“You thought I was like, literally a Minecraft world that grew a voice?”

“Yeah.”

“And you still decided to be friends with me?”

He shrugged, “It was kinda weird at the beginning not gonna lie, but I got used to it.”

“Oh.” he looked down at himself, and his very physical body, “Would you… prefer that I go back to being that?”

“No!” Dream yelled, and he jumped, “Now you can come with me! We could go back to Munchy and tell Bad you’re okay! You know Bad right?”

“Yeah.” Guilt flooded through him as he thought about Bad. He didn’t even say goodbye, “He was the only friend I had before I went here.”

“We could go find Bad and- and- you could teach me!”

“Teach you? What do you want to learn?”

“Everything!” his eyes sparkled with unspoken ideas, “I’ve never seen a Developer as powerful as you! Think about all the cool things we could do!”

“Killing people isn’t cool, Dream.”

“Oh come on now, it’s more than just _that_.” his friend began to ramble, “What if we like, changed the world a bit, just a bit to make things slightly harder to beat the game, like oh I don’t know, item drop rate or Player speed-”

Dream was talking about small things. Little things, easy things George could do with a flick of his hand. He’d sought bigger things, secrets to the Universe, world-changing powers and reality-bending concepts.

“-I even had an idea where you control the Ender Dragon, and then we invite a ton of really good Players to try and beat you, and then-”

He’d thought it’d make him happy. Make him fulfilled. Maybe give him something to do.

It didn’t.

Sometimes the Universe was a little too large, and he was a little too small.

“-oh and we could also keep playing our game. It needs a name, you know-”

But now, with Dream, it didn't seem all that significant. The small things had power too. If Dream liked it, thought it was cool, then he’d be happy to waste his time on stupid little things like that.

“-maybe we could change it up so that I chase you instead-”

He still didn’t completely understand what made him stick around.

“-just you and me, George, up against the world!”

But whatever it was, it was worth coming down for.

**Author's Note:**

> _Maybe the real secrets of the Universe were the friends we made along the way._
> 
> Oh boy, I don’t think you all realize how long this fic had been coming for. It seems like I pulled it out of nowhere (technically I did, I speedran this thing last Sunday), but I’ve actually had this concept since early June, back when I first joined the fandom. I made one of those tumblr posts that was really just a summarized oneshot about how Dream and George met, but couldn't bring myself to actually write the fic because I didn't know how I felt about rpf yet. Writing Unseen helped me break that boundary in July, so here we are!
> 
> Here is the [tumblr post](https://maaiams.tumblr.com/post/619947505383243777/dream-and-george-headcanons-i-know-people-tend-to), if you’re interested. Oh, and follow my tumblr if you want, I make posts about mcyt and draw.
> 
> Next fic in this series is a companion fic to this from Dream's pov. I suggest you read it if you like angst :)


End file.
